


BABIES AND CROSSBOWS

by Zoya1416



Series: THE PATRICIAN'S BABY [2]
Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Birthday Present, Gen, New Parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 12:10:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya1416/pseuds/Zoya1416
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2nd chapter of THE PATRICIAN'S BABY series. The Patrician is still in the grips of new baby panic.</p>
<p>AU<br/>After Thud<br/>Before Snuff</p>
            </blockquote>





	BABIES AND CROSSBOWS

**Author's Note:**

> The setting is all Pratchett's. Robert is mine.

Two weeks after the Patrician's baby came to the Palace, Drumknott sent a carriage with another urgent message for Lady Ramkin. When she got in, he turned to her in an unusual panic.

“Your Grace, I can't do anything with him! He's gone completely impossible again. He hasn't slept in four days, and he won't let go of the baby. He's done everything except barricade the office, and I wouldn't be surprised if he does that today. Please come quickly! The baby's crying more, not less!”

“I thought we got the nursery all settled. Doesn't he have the golem and the wet-nurse?

“Yes, but he makes her come into the office to feed the baby, and watches every minute. It's embarrassing the poor girl. It's the same at changing times. Why anyone wants to watch a nappy change, I'm sure I don't know. I think he's afraid they'll stick him with a pin. And he is making them so nervous they just might! The nursery attendant told me an hour ago that she was quitting, and I only made her stay by doubling her salary!”

Sybil was shocked. There must be thousands of young women in Ankh-Morpork who would be glad of this job, and she said so.

“But he won't HAVE anybody else...you've got to help him.”

When Sybil and Drumknott opened the door to the Oblong Office, the sight was arresting. Vetinari had plastered the baby to his chest with various lengths of cotton straps and was sitting at his desk. A pistol crossbow was on it. 

“Havelock!” Sybil called sharply. “Put down that bow immediately!” To Drumknott she added, “where is the golem?”

“I don't know, Your Grace. It was here when I left.”

Sybil moved slowly around to the side of the desk, the crossbow weaving at her. She reached down and yanked out the bolt, and the convulsive reflex pulled back the bow with a “thunk.” The baby started crying louder.

“Havelock, this won't do. You are upsetting Robert, and you are upsetting yourself. Give him to me. What is wrong today?”

The Patrician raised bleary eyes.

“I...can't. Someone might hurt him. I have many enemies.”

 

“This office is the most closely guarded in all the city. You are being silly. I won't hurt him.”

Slowly he peeled off the layers of cloth, and Sybil winced at the smell.

“He needed to be changed hours ago. Do you want him to get diaper rash?”

“Better diaper rash than an attack.” This was semi-mumbled as Vetinari leaned back in his chair. Sybil turned to Drumknott. 

“What do you make of this?”

“I think it was because the workmen started outside the office today, and frightened the baby. I tried to explain to his Lordship that he'd requested the work, and he said he didn't mean for it to be so noisy. Then he got out the crossbow. I didn't know he had it!”

“I noticed the saw horses when I came up. What changes is he making?”

Drumknott sighed. “He wants all the walls on this side thickened to twelve inches deep. ALL the walls. The supervisor told him that because of the weight, it couldn't be done without reinforcing the load-bearing walls all the way down. He agreed. Then he's been jumping every time somebody hits a nail.

“We need to get them both to bed.”

To the Patrician she said, “Havelock, no one is attacking now. You are being unnecessarily alarmed. Come with me.”

She found a scene of deep unrest in his private rooms. Both the nursery attendant and the wet-nurse glanced at her and looked away sullenly. The blue blankets of the basket were soiled, and no one had changed them. She sighed inwardly and took charge once more. In a few minutes Robbie had been changed and fed, Vetinari watching carefully.  
Vetinari himself had been changed into his nightgown by Drumknott, and the golem returned from the kitchen where he had been ordered by Vetinari to stand guard over food deliveries.

Sybil went home that evening weary and unhappy. Havelock had been her friend for many years, since they were children, and yet he had actually raised a crossbow to her. She decided not to tell Sam, at least not now.

For once he was home ahead of her, and was feeding Young Sam, who was one year old now. He glowered, but she came to him and stood behind his chair, reaching down over his shoulders to rub his chest. She pressed her head to his.

“I was at the Palace. Havelock is not himself now.”

“I know where you were. Willikins told me. Didn't you think you were needed here?”

She was annoyed at him and still annoyed that she hadn't been able to make Havelock believe he was safe.

“I had a responsibility to Havelock. He needs to get back to normal as soon as he can, or the city will suffer. You're out all hours (she tried to restrain herself, but it wasn't to be) out catching criminals to make the city safer. This is the one time I've been asked, and it's work I know how to do!”

Then she pulled his head up and kissed him hard, while he was still frozen holding a spoonful of mashed carrots.

“I love you, Sam. I love you so very much. You've made me such a happy woman. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to have a child without you. Even when you're out I know you're there. I could send a message to you.”

He said, “I know I'm not here a lot of evenings, that I get called out again. That's why I came home early tonight. I can't think what it would be like to have to raise Young Sam without you. Vetinari can be such a devil sometimes, with his stupid clock and making me wait”—  
she was still rubbing him and he was very glad that Young Sam had already had his book read, and could be put down by the nursery attendant as soon as the meal was over.

Later, Vimes crossed his arms behind his head and looked at Sybil curved in next to him. She was sleeping deeply, with that tiny snore she always denied.  
He had been angry that Sybil was at the Palace, after Vetinari had all but confessed to longing for Sam's wife, but Sybil was all his. Always would be, even as she took care of his Lordship's little bundle of joy. And that was something the other man would never have, the love of the woman who had borne him a child.

 

Sybil got things arranged again at the Palace in a couple of days. She didn't stop with the people, she supervised the remodeling and made sure the workmen got all the joints braced and trimmed. Gods knew she'd had enough remodeling at the dragon pens, and repairs to the house, when errant dragons exploded.

Vetinari seemed better after two days normal sleep for him, eight hours total. She decided he was ready for a talking-to.

“Havelock, I know you were surprised by this baby. But he is safe, and we've made plans so you won't worry so.”

The Patrician started to speak, but she waved him back.

“We've doubled your normal guard in the kitchen, and there's a special check on the foods his attendants and wet-nurse eat. Your construction is being finished; they've worked triple-time on this. 

“You can have him sleep with you, but I don't recommend it. You'll hear every little rustle and then you will stay awake like you did before. Sometimes babies cry because they're over-tired and need to be left along to sleep. And it will be weeks before he's not crying so much. Young Sam was much better by three months.

She saw his involuntary wince at her estimate of the time-table.

“Babies have to be babies, Havelock. And you have to be the Patrician. You have to stop this nonsense and get back to work. But not all at once.

“You don't want to shoot the Merchant Guild's leaders, do you? They're scheduled for you tomorrow, and you're only working for six hours. Robbie will be ready for his story at six o'clock. Sam sent you a nice new copy of “Where's My Cow.”

Vetinari nodded. “Thank you, your Grace. These have been the most terrible and wonderful weeks of my life.”

She smiled. “It's that way for everyone. I'll come see you again in two days.”

But he didn't need her after that. He icily reminded himself of other challenges he'd met, other goals reached, and took back his self-control. He let everyone else do the jobs he was paying them very well for. And, cursing Sam Vimes all the way, he got really good at making all the noises in “Where's My Cow.”

 

When Robbie was a year old, Vetinari did consult Sybil about a birthday party. Everyone wanted to meet the Patrician's son. She recommended a very small private birthday party, and a larger reception only if he wanted one, where Robbie was brought in for a few minutes. He let the TIMES do new iconographs. Robbie had been scared at first, but now he laughed out loud when Otto Chriek disappeared and then reappeared after the burst of light. 

Sam was at the private party in the Palace Gardens, drinking punch and hating it, when Drumknott came for him.

“There's a driver at the gate wanting to unload a pallet. Says it's a gift for Robbie. It's got to be checked; it's big.”

Sam found the long cart and pallet, which held a wooden cube about three feet on each side. There were airholes in it.

“This is something alive? Do you know what it is?” he queried the driver.

“Some kind of little deer. We had to let it out and feed it twice a day. That's why it took so long to get here.”

“Come in and unload it. You stand close to the cart.”

When the crate had been opened without exploding, Sam found a little animal, something like a deer, but with four little prongs. He examined the care directions which had been left inside. It was a Brindisi four-horned antelope, a young one, which would grow to only forty pounds. It stepped out of the crate slowly, and stood on thin legs.

“Drumknott, please go and tell his Lordship what we've got and ask him where to put it.”

In a few minutes, the Patrician came around the side of the Palace, holding Robbie in his arms. The little boy saw the tiny creature and oohed over it. Vetinari put his child down so he could see the new arrival. The boy was blonde and would be taller and heavier than other children his age. But his eyebrows were forming in the shape of Vetinari's arched ones, and his eyes were the same shape and that certain blue.

 

Vetinari read the attached instructions, and passed them back to Sam, raising an eyebrow.  
“She gave me more directions for the care of the antelope than the child,” he said neutrally.

Sam's traitorous heart twinged a bit for the man. Vetinari was still a bastard, but there were situations like this where he felt sorry for him. 

He shrugged off this comment, surprising himself by saying,  
“'S okay, your Lordship. You don't need to have written directions. We'll all help you take care of him.”

Young Sam came running around the side of the Palace, Sybil toiling after him.

“Look! Deer, Dada! My pat!"

“Let Robbie pat first. It's his antelope.”

The toddler stretched out a hand to the soft brown fur. “Awope.”  
It was a melting moment. Then the antelope did what animals do best when they're excited, and Sam guffawed.


End file.
